Aquarius
by eirenical
Summary: On a rainy Friday Claude is being his normal Aquarius-y self and overthinking everything as he readies himself to sacrifice his own happiness to make way for others. Fortunately, neither Berger nor Sheila is ready to let him go. Claude/Berger/Sheila
1. Chapter 1

**_March 12, 2010:_** *twitch* Adrienne, I don't know whether to shake a fist at you for continually distracting me from finishing the sequel fic I have started... or thank you for getting a direct line to my muse and repeatedly kicking her ass into gear. O_o;;; As requested, Claude/Berger/Sheila. *bows* Just for you, darling. ^_~ And I tried for fluff again, really I did... it just didn't totally want to go there. But... there are a few fluffy _parts_. And cuddling! Did I mention the cuddling? I should at least get brownie points for that. *nodnod* Enjoy?

*twitch* I just can't help myself. I keep expecting my muse to get tired of this fandom... and she just doesn't. O_o;;; Another one set just before the musical in time -- I swear I do have the next future sequel started, I just keep getting distracted. *falls over*

**Fandom:** Hair, the new Broadway revival **  
Pairing:** Claude/Berger/Sheila, mentions of Claude/Jeanie **  
Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** 8,651, ~4300 per part.  
**Warnings:** Slash, threesomes. **  
Disclaimer:** Neither the musical nor the boys belong to me, if they did they'd be groping each other on sta--. *pause* *blinkblink* Huh. Look at that... they do. *eg*

**_Warnings:_** Still slash. ^_^ Erm... and some het, too? *twitch* Watch out for falling threesomes. O_o;;;

_**Minor note:**_ Oh -- and for those of you who have no idea who I'm talking about when you get to the part where she's mentioned once or twice, Suzanne is the Tribe member played by Megan Reinking -- the lead in the Black Boys trio. I always liked her and the last time I saw the show, I noticed that her character is, in fact, mentioned by name. XD It's when Crissy is trying to get out of going home with Woof and asks "Walter" if she can go home with him. He, in turn, asks Suzanne (Megan Reinking) if she minds. Not that important, it isn't like she has a major part in the fic -- goodness, and not even until Chapter 2 O_o -- but I was happy to have another official name to play with. ^_^

* * *

**_Aquarius_**  
by _Renee-chan_

Looking out at the steadily falling rain, Claude couldn't help but think that someone was having a great laugh at his expense. He was supposed to have met Berger in Central Park today. The younger boy had hinted that he had something "fun" for they and Sheila to do that day. Claude snorted. "Fun". That was usually Berger-speak for "Incredibly hot sex that is probably illegal in some or all states." Then again, their entire relationship was probably illegal in some or all states.

Leaning his head against the glass, Claude sighed. He still wasn't entirely sure how the younger boy had talked him into this thing to begin with. It was all so confused. In the beginning, when he'd first met the Tribe, he'd been drawn to Sheila like the proverbial moth to a flame. She was bright and passionate and seemed somehow otherworldly -- like she was too good for this Earth. She was safe, easy to love. It was the kind of love that didn't require touching or actual contact, the kind of love you felt for a religious icon or a celebrity. You sat at their feet and gazed up at them on their pedestals and considered the love consummated if they so much as smiled in your general direction. Easy. No strings attached... uncomplicated.

At the complete polar opposite end of the spectrum was George Berger. There was nothing otherworldly about that boy. He immersed himself in the basest, dirtiest, most physical pieces of the world he could find -- be they drugs, sex or something silly like rolling around in the mud of the park after a lengthy spring rain. Claude envied him. He envied him so fiercely it made him ache at times. To be able to just let go of yourself like that... to just _be_ in the moment, whatever that moment was. To be completely comfortable in your own skin and to have utter faith that your friends would love you not in _spite_ of your eccentricities... but _because_ of them. Maybe that was what drew him, that complete confidence of self, that unapologetic way he had of throwing himself at the world and daring it to do its worst... and then reveling in it when it did. Claude wanted to be that way, wanted to be able to throw off the shackles of his suburban, everyday existence. But he couldn't. Which brought him back to why he was here and not indulging his friend's whims in the Park.

To say that his father had been less than pleased when he'd dropped out of school earlier that year was like saying that Noah's flood had been caused by a little drizzle. He hadn't even tried to understand, not that Claude could have explained his reasons if he'd been asked. Ever since then they tiptoed around each other, each afraid to upset the balance of silence that was keeping the powder keg of their home from being lit by a stray spark. He dropped hints like boulders that if Claude was going to decline the chance to get an education, he could at least go earn a paycheck. But Claude could no longer take on some menial, soul-killing job than he could bow to the whims of institutional education.

His mother was worried about him. Claude would have to be blind not to see that. Unlike his father, she didn't really care what he did as long as he was happy. Were it not for his father's growing irritation she would have gladly supported him for life. Then again, mothers are like that. No, what really caused her agitation was the timing of his dropping out of school. She was all too well aware that his 18th birthday had passed just a few short months ago... and in another few short months, he would be draft fodder just like everyone other male his age. Most days he was able to shake off her worry and its consequent extreme mother-henning behavior. Some days he couldn't. Like today.

He'd been halfway out the door when she'd caught him. First she'd demanded he change his clothes, or at the very least let her iron them. When he'd managed to dodge that bullet, she'd let the next one fly -- she didn't want him leaving the house wearing her beads. Really, he'd have thought she'd let that one go by now. Not wanting to fight that particular fight today he'd given in and taken them off. That was the wrong move, though, and he knew it the minute he saw the light go on behind her eyes. By then it was too late. She had the bit in her teeth and she was off: there was a storm coming, the city was too dangerous on a day like today, she couldn't spare him the money for the subway (he could have gotten around that one except for not wanting to explain that he usually jumped the turnstile anyway), she was making a special dinner that night (which should have clued him in except that between Sheila and Berger he'd been _so_ damned preoccupied lately)... and then there was the final coup-de-grace. With tears in her eyes that Claude couldn't convince himself were fake, she'd demanded to know why her only son couldn't take one day out from his busy schedule of lollygagging around with his friends to celebrate her birthday.

Buh-dum-_ching_.

_Damn_ it. At the time, he could only stare at her, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Sure, he'd been preoccupied lately, but how could he have been _so_ preoccupied as to forget his mother's birthday? Embarrassed and feeling outmaneuvered, Claude had backed down before his mother could prep for round two. The only thing he was sorry about, other than losing his free day, was that he had no way to contact Berger or Sheila to tell them he wouldn't be there. By now they'd already be at the park. Finally, in a moment of inspiration, he called Crissy. She might be flighty, but when push came to shove, he knew she could be counted on -- and more importantly, at this time on a Friday, she'd just be getting home from school. Sure enough, when he'd called she'd answered and promised to tell the rest of the Tribe why he wasn't there. Feeling somewhat better, he'd gone back up to his room to thunk his head against the wall for a while. Anything was better than sitting downstairs waiting for his father to get home and fending off his mother's guilt-inducing stares.

It wasn't more than an hour or two later when the doorbell rang. Claude came back out of his musings with a start. His mother had assured him that they weren't expecting any guests tonight. With her friends having planned a party for the coming weekend, tonight was just for family. And his father wouldn't have rung the bell... He crept to the top of the stairs, intently listening for any voice that he might recognize. It was with a sinking heart and roiling stomach that he realized that he _did_ recognize the voices downstairs... and they belonged to Berger and Sheila.

Shocked into movement, Claude raced down the steps and into the foyer. His mother was standing there, an uncertain yet polite look on her face. Claude had sudden cause to wonder if he'd ever even mentioned either of his friends to his parents. He couldnt remember. Berger's green eyes lifted to lock onto his and flashed with eager mischief. There was no counting the different kinds of trouble the younger boy could get him into in this situation. Thank G-d Sheila was there.

As though she'd heard the thought, Sheila reached out a hand and tugged on Berger's sleeve to redirect his attention. She did it with almost no conscious thought, as though it were a reflexive action rather than a planned one. Berger obliged by resuming his earlier expression of polite interest as he listened to Sheila discussing something with his mother. Feeling numb and somewhat fatalistic, Claude finally got himself out of the doorway and over to the group as it slowly started to shift into the living room. He grabbed Berger's hand to prevent him from following the women as they left the room. Pressing close to the younger boy he dropped his voice into a harsh whisper, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Berger simply smiled, eyes twinkling and cheeks dimpling, "Crissy told us it was your mom's birthday, so I thought we should bring a present." His smile widening, Berger leaned closer and pressed a butterfly kiss to Claude's temple, "Take it easy, Claudio. I was just escorting Sheila. I'm not staying... much as I'd like to." That last was said with such a strong flavor of innuendo that Claude could only be grateful that he meant it.

Letting out a breath, Claude forced himself to relax, "So where is this present?"

Berger laughed as he responded, "In the living room chatting with your mom." Seeing Claude's thoroughly nonplussed expression, he explained, "You're always complaining about your parents getting on your case about your life, right? You're not in school, you don't have a job, you don't have a girlfriend. Well, I can't do anything to get you cut any slack on the first two counts... but I sure as hell can on the third... 'cuz thanks to me, you _do_ have a girlfriend." The impishness oozed back into Berger's expression, "So, I figure if we make her real for them, they'll at least get off your back about _that_... and just may let you out of the house more often with less fuss."

Claude's mouth dropped open in shock, then snapped shut again almost as fast when he saw how quickly Berger's eyes dropped down from his to fix on said open mouth. As much as he wanted to give in to the sudden wash of heat between them, he couldn't afford that, not here, not now, not in his parents' house. When he finally got himself back under control, he threw his arms around Berger in a tight hug, "Berger... you're a genius."

The younger boy just laughed as he returned the hug, "So people tell me." Releasing Claude, Berger stepped back, "Now with that good deed done for the day, I'm heading back." Winking at the older boy, he finished with, "Since I'm not saddled with the two of you for the night, I'll have to go find someone else to amuse myself with."

As he saw his friend out, Claude couldn't help the laugh that bubbled forth -- some_one_, not some_thing_. That was so like Berger... Hearing his name called from the other room, Claude hurried to join the two women. As grateful as he was for Sheila's presence and as eager as he was for this to work, he wasn't fooling himself. They would both have to be extremely careful not to accidentally reveal something that he didn't want his parents to know. It would be like dancing around landmines... but at least he had a partner for this particular dance.

* * *

Claude had to admit, dinner had gone far better than he'd had any right to hope. His mother had been completely enchanted with Sheila and had monopolized her attention for most of the evening. His father had been harder to win over. He had obviously been pleased with his choice to _have_ a girlfriend, but it was equally obvious that he was less than pleased with his _choice_ of girlfriend -- then again, with his father any win was still a win, even if it was only a partial win. He could almost see his father ticking off the negative points in his head through dinner: Sheila was too independent, too forthright for his tastes. He preferred his women perfectly coifed and clad in 1950s style dresses while puttering diligently around the kitchen. Seeing a woman dressed in pants with unbound hair -- and in college, no less -- was a bit of a bruise to his ego. Still, no one could deny that Sheila was unbelievably charming when she wanted to be... and she had wanted to be. By the end of the evening, she had his father's grudging approval, even with his earlier misgivings.

And it was simply amazing how once it became a question of escorting Sheila home or letting her take the subway back to the city this late alone, suddenly his parents had money for him to buy a token... and to buy one for "his girl." He'd had to fight back a blush of shame at the laughing twinkle in Sheila's eyes during that exchange. Unlike Berger, though, she would never comment on something like that, not wanting to get him in unnecessary trouble.

Wanting to recoup at least _some_ of the day, he'd informed his parents that he would be spending the night at Sheila's. Then Sheila had caught it as his father frowned and prepared to launch into what would, no doubt, have been a blistering speech about the impropriety of such an action and that he would march himself straight home after dropping her off. Before he could speak, she forced a pretty little blush onto her face and placed a light hand on his father's arm, "Mr. _Bukowski_, the very thought! I do have a couch. Claude is welcome to use it, as always. I wouldn't dream of sending him home alone so late -- it just isn't safe. Besides, my roommate is away this weekend... and I'd feel so much better if Claude could stay with me." Smiling brightly up at him as she twined an arm around his, she had added the finishing touch, "Having him around makes me feel so much safer." It had been all Claude could do not to let his mouth drop open at the dissembling. A fortunate thing as her reaction had mollified his parents.

When they finally escaped from the house and were safely down the block, it only took one look at each other to send them both into raucous fits of laughter. Claude calmed first and pulled Sheila into a tight embrace, tucking her securely against him as he kissed her forehead, "Forget politics, Sheila, you should be an actress! That was amazing!"

Sheila laughed before pulling away to drop into an elaborate stage curtsy. When she came up out of it she launched herself at him, wrapping her long legs firmly around his waist as he caught her. Looking down at him, she gave him a warm smile, "Well, it's true! I do have a couch and you are welcome to use it..."

As she angled her head down, he raised his up so he could meet her lips in a gentle kiss. Kisses between them were always gentle -- not like with Berger. It seemed irreverent somehow, to treat her with the same lasciviousness that he and Berger treated each other. Oh, he knew she could take it, hell would probably welcome it -- he'd seen her with Berger, after all, and there were certainly no holds barred between the two of them -- but with him... it was just different. He couldn't explain why it was, it just was. Maybe it was his father's attitude towards women rubbing off on him, or maybe it was the small amount of hero worship he still held for the young activist college student... ah, who knows.

When she lifted her head and smiled down at him, he loosened his grip so she could put her feet back down on the ground. Once she was standing again, she slipped her left arm through the crook of his right and started leading them down the street to the station. It was always like that with her -- she led, he followed. Really, he was like that with everyone. They led... he followed. The only time he'd rebelled against that basic natural order was when he'd dropped out of school. With a mental snort, he thought, _And just look at how well **that** worked out for you, Claude. Six months later and you **still** don't know what the hell you're doing with your life._

They jumped the subway turnstile to save the 40 cents -- pooled together with whatever their friends had scrounged up, it would probably buy them breakfast tomorrow. They settled down in the corner of the subway car, Sheila sprawled in his lap and occasionally offering a jaunty wave to the disapproving older couples in the middle of the car. Claude just smiled and wrapped his arms around her. It was moments like this that made him understand how she had gotten on so well with Berger before he came along -- she had just as wide a wicked streak as he did. Hers was just buried deeper.

Once they were off the subway, Sheila pulled him up short with a soft smile, "So... are you going to finish walking me home, Claude?"

Claude's heart sputtered for a few beats and then tripped into a more rapid pattern. In spite of what they said, in his heart of hearts he still thought of Sheila as Berger's girlfriend... not really his. It was easy to ignore when the three of them were together. Berger had enough brass for all of them and he didn't tolerate Claude being shy. But when it was just he and Sheila... it seemed wrong, somehow. Like cheating.

Sensing his sudden discomfort, Sheila lifted a hand to rest against Claude's cheek, "Never mind, Claude. It's OK. Why don't we head over to the park and see if anyone knows where he got off to, all right?"

No need to ask who "he" was. Not trusting his voice to respond, Claude simply nodded. It was uncanny how well she understood him, sometimes. She always seemed to know what he needed before _he_ even knew he needed it. It still amazed him that she'd been so gracious as to include him in the love she and Berger shared. It was humbling being even a small part of it. It made him want more, but as Berger had once so eloquently put it, he didn't know more of _what_... and he didn't intend to find out. He was grateful enough for the tolerance the two of them showed him. It would be selfish to try grasping for more than they'd already willingly given.

It wasn't that long a walk to the Park, but Claude found himself irrationally wishing for it to take longer. It wasn't that he didn't want to find Berger... it was just that it was rare for him to have this time alone with Sheila and not feel guilty about it. And as long as they were just walking, holding hands, enjoying the moonlight, he didn't feel like he was cheating. He felt... romantic, like he had something to give her that Berger couldn't. It almost made him want to rethink his non-answer to Sheila's earlier question, to grab this chance while he didn't feel the need to apologize for it. They found Jeanie before he could.

He could tell right away that something was off. The tow-haired girl was sitting under a tree with her knees tucked to her chest and a faraway look on her face. Not that the spaced out look was anything unusual, but the curled, defensive posture certainly was. It was something he'd always admired about Jeanie -- she was one of the freest, most graceful and open people he knew. He'd been enchanted by her when he first joined the Tribe. He was still very fond of her... it just wasn't the same. But this... something was off.

Sheila could sense it, too, and knelt down beside the other blonde. Putting a comforting hand on the taller girl's shoulder, she murmured a question, "Is everything all right, Jeanie?"

Jeanie startled, only just now seeming to notice that she had company. Seeing Claude hovering above her, her lips stretched into a beaming smile, "Claudio... were you worried?"

As usual, the obvious adoration in that gaze made him distinctly uncomfortable. He wasn't worthy of it and he knew it. He wasn't anything that special. Why couldn't Jeanie see that? Offering a half shrug, he answered, "We're part of the same Tribe, aren't we? Of course I was worried."

The smile stayed firmly stretched over her lips, but fell from her eyes. Claude felt a momentary clutch of guilt over that, but pushed it aside. Jeanie let the smile fall open into a small laugh as she did her own share of pushing aside, this time of their worry, "That's sweet, but you don't have to be. I'm copasetic. Totally groovy, man."

Sheila frowned, "That's not all you are. You're high, Jeanie."

The younger blonde tipped her head against Sheila's shoulder and beamed another smile up at her, "As a kite, man! Got some really good stuff -- want to share?"

Now it was Claude's turn to frown, "You shouldn't do that sort of thing alone, Jeanie. What if something happened?"

Pulling away from Sheila and climbing carefully to her feet, Jeanie made her way over to Claude and draped herself over him. The smile was back in her eyes as she beamed up at him, "You really _are_ worried about me, Claudio!" She bussed a small kiss to the corner of his jaw and snuggled herself against him.

Extremely uncomfortable, Claude nonetheless wrapped an arm around the girl to keep her upright. He shot a desperate look towards Sheila which she missed entirely, her gaze being focused in the opposite direction. Turning to look where she was looking, he felt no small amount of relief to see Berger approaching with Crissy. The smaller girl was talking and gesturing animatedly. Berger was listening attentively -- or at least pretending he was. He was good at that -- making you feel like you had his full attention when really his mind had wandered off for parts unknown.

When they reached the three blondes, Berger took one look at Jeanie and laughed, "You weren't kidding, Crissy. She sure did start partying without us, but it looks like you don't need my help to get her back to everyone else, after all... so I'm gonna go."

Sheila, being closer, beat Claude to it. She balled up a fist and punched Berger in the shin. The other boy let out a startled yelp and grabbed his leg, hopping around on one foot. After a few hops, he turned a hurt gaze on Sheila who just smiled sweetly as she stood up from the ground. He coughed and ducked his head, mumbling, "Or I guess I could help Claude carry her..."

With a relieved look, Claude guided Jeanie over so that Berger could take half of her weight. Whatever she'd smoked, it was clearly some powerful stuff. She was so far out of it that Claude was frankly impressed that she'd even recognized them. She kept lifting her hands like she was conducting something and humming under her breath. As they walked and she tipped back and forth between them, he would catch an occasional word or phrase, but nothing that really made sense -- something about deep breathing and sulfur.

The walk towards the Tribe's usual meeting place was silent, except for Sheila and Crissy's quiet murmurings and Jeanie's occasional bursts of song. Just before they reached the clearing, she tilted back towards him and mumbled something in his ear. When Claude finally puzzled out what she'd said, he almost dropped her. Berger shot him a confused glance and Claude shook his head. Later. He'd think about it later.

What had Jeanie said that shook him so badly?

_I hope it's yours._

* * *

**A/N:**

Claude: *gapes* You're kidding. *grabs the fic author and shakes her* What the hell is it with you and leaving me out on ledges???

R-chan: *blinks innocently* It's fun?

Claude: *stares* *slumps* I don't know how much longer I can do this.

Nuriko: *patpats* Just wait until you hit year 10 and you _finally_ have started to let yourself think she might really be done with you this time... and then she starts again.

Claude: *whimper*

R-chan: *eyes Nuriko* Do you _want_ to get sex anytime this millennium?

Nuriko: *makes zipping motions over his lips*

R-chan: *smirks* That's better.

* * *

Questions, comments, popcorn?

Berger: *twitch* I'm just not gonna.

Sheila: *nods* Wise choice.

_**Coming Soon:**_ We finally learn what Jeanie meant by that cryptic statement... and madness ensues.


	2. Chapter 2

**_March 13, 2010:_** And here's the threesome-y goodness. O_O I tried?

**_Warnings:_** Still slash. ^_^ Erm... and some het, too? *twitch* Watch out for falling threesomes. O_o;;;

_**Minor note:**_ Oh -- for those of you who have no idea who I'm talking about when you get to the part where she's mentioned once or twice, Suzanne is the Tribe member played by Megan Reinking -- the lead in the Black Boys trio. I always liked her and the last time I saw the show, I noticed that her character is, in fact, mentioned by name. XD It's when Crissy is trying to get out of going home with Woof and asks "Walter" if she can go home with him. He, in turn, asks Suzanne (Megan Reinking) if she minds. Not that important, it isn't like she has a major part in the fic -- goodness, and not even until Chapter 2 O_o -- but I was happy to have another official name to play with. ^_^

* * *

**_Aquarius_**  
by _Renee-chan_

Berger looked out over his Tribe, a proud, satisfied smile on his face. They were good people, _his_ people. It was wonderful that they could find such comfort in each other's nearness. He let his eyes roam over them, idly debating which group he should find his own comfort in. As though the matter were really under debate. He still strayed, still took his pleasures were he would -- he couldn't be himself and do anything else -- but unlike in the past, he now had a home of sorts to come back to. Only his home wasn't a place. It wasn't a two-story house with a white picket fence, a dog, two parents and a little sister. It wasn't in Hoboken. Right now it was here, in this park... with Claude and Sheila.

Pausing for a moment, Berger explored that thought. When had Claude started coming first in that equation? With a small laugh at his own obtuseness, he shook his head. When had it happened? The day he'd brought the older boy home to Sheila -- he'd never have dared do it, otherwise. He just hadn't acknowledged it until now. It wasn't that he loved Sheila any less -- far from it -- there was just something about Claude. He didn't demand anything from Berger. He accepted him lock, stock and barrel... just the way he was. With Sheila there was always a sense that she had "plans" for him, plans that Berger might not want any part of, were he given a choice. And that was the crux of it, really. Sheila never really gave him a choice. She wanted him to be what _she_ wanted him to be. And maybe what she wanted him to be was better than what he was... but he didn't want to be better. He wanted to be free. And Claude was the only one of the two of them who could allow him that.

Shaking off his somber thoughts, he started picking his way gently through the slumbering bodies, searching out his lovers. Unsurprisingly, they were separated off from the rest a little ways, cuddled up in the shadow of a tree. Sheila was stretched out on the ground, head making a pillow of Claude's thighs, arms clasped loosely around his waist. An occasional soft snore rose from her as she dozed on, blissfully unaware.

Claude was a different story. Then again, he often was. He was sitting up, one hand braced behind him and the other gently stroking through Sheila's soft, blonde hair. He had a look on his face that Berger recognized all too well. He was over-thinking something. From the glazed and stressed look in his eyes, he'd passed the "let's think about this logically" stage and gone straight into the "I'm so wrapped up in this thing that I've tangled myself up in knots that it will take days to undo" stage. With a heartfelt sigh, Berger dropped himself onto the ground on the side not occupied by Sheila's peacefully sleeping form. Hooking a gentle arm around Claude's neck, he offered a small squeeze, "I know that look, Claudio. Why don't you tell me what's on your mind and we'll see if we can't get you untangled, hmm?"

The shoulders under Berger's arm tensed, then relaxed as Claude let his head drop forward. His voice was a quiet murmur, "I don't want to talk about it."

Giving Claude a gentle shake, Berger shook his head, "Nope. Not a choice. You've got yourself in knots over something and you're gonna tell me what it is or _neither_ of us is gonna get any sleep tonight." At Claude's frowning glare, Berger shrugged, "Well, when you get like this you kick in your sleep. And you toss and turn. I don't like sleeping with a moving target." Offering the older boy a bright grin he said, "So you're better off just not fighting with me and getting it over with."

Claude sighed, his shoulders hunching in slightly, "It's about Jeanie."

Well... that was about as far from what Berger expected him to say as he could possibly have gotten. Berger let his arm drop from Claude's shoulders and leaned back, bracing his weight on his hands, "What about Jeanie? She's fine. Last I saw her she was tucked in with Crissy and Suzanne, sleeping off her trip."

Claude shook his head, "No, it's about something she said earlier, when we were helping her over here."

"She was high, Claudio. People say all sorts of weird shit when they're stoned. You can't hold whatever she said against her," Berger answered.

"I know, Berger. Believe me I know," he paused, "But somehow... I think this was real." Swallowing hard, he got out, "I think she's pregnant, Berger."

For just a moment, Berger's breathing got locked up in his throat. It was as though he was trying to inhale and exhale at the same time and the action got tangled and confused. Pregnant? How the hell could Jeanie be pregnant? And who was she pregnant _by_? Hell, it could be any of them. It could be _him_. Thoughts whirling in several different directions at once, he finally managed to meet Claude's eyes. The older boy nodded in understanding, "When we were walking back, she whispered at me that she hoped it was mine."

Not that difficult to hear the strain and unhappiness in Claude's voice. He wasn't ready to be a father -- good Lord, _none_ of them were ready to be parents. And _Jeanie_? Flighty, irresponsible, empathetic, anything-for-a-good-time Jeanie? What the hell kind of mother would _she_ make? Berger shook himself off, trying to dislodge the thoughts like a dog shaking off water. Raising his hands to his cheeks, he gave himself a few rousing slaps, "Yeah, I'd say that's a pretty fair thing to get yourself in a tangle over. But Claude, how do know she's even really knocked up? She doesn't _look_ pregnant -- maybe it was the drugs talking. You know what kind of weird shit you can see when you're high. How do we know she wasn't just seeing something? She could have just been seeing something, right, Claudio?"

Claude shook his head, eyes somber, "I don't know, Berger... just something tells me that it wasn't the drugs. This is real. Somehow, I just know it." Letting out a small groan, he leaned forward and buried his face in Sheila's hair, "My G-d, Berger... maybe that means it really _is_ mine. How else would I know something like that?"

Not having a good answer, all Berger could do was pat his friend awkwardly on the shoulder as his own mind raced in panic, "I don't know, man."

Letting out a quiet whimper, Claude pulled his knees up towards his chest, unconsciously pulling Sheila closer to him, "Hell... it's not like we really use protection, either. How could I have been so stupid? My G-d, Berger. What if it had been Sheila? What if one of us got _her_ pregnant? One of us would have to marry her... she'd have to drop out of school. We'd have to get _jobs_. What the hell were we thinking?"

Sheila made an irritated grumbling noise from where she was being squashed against Claude's chest, "You were thinking like _all_ teenaged boys -- with your dicks. Thank G-d one of the three of us has a brain." Reaching up to smack Claude in the back of the head her voice took on a teasing edge, "Much as I love you both, I'm not risking my entire future, especially with the stakes doubled." Pushing herself up to a sitting position and taking in the pair of blank stares in front of her, she rolled her eyes and smacked them both, "I'm on the pill, you idiots. Neither one of you is getting me pregnant without my say-so."

Berger met Claude's eyes and, in perfect understanding, both flopped back on the ground with a heartfelt sigh of relief, then immediately rolled into each other as though to keep Sheila at bay. Sheila just crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. Berger peeked over Claude's shoulder and, seeing her scowling, offered her a weak grin, "Well... that's a relief."

Sheila threw her hands up in the air, "Oh, for goodness sake. My mother is right -- men are useless." Standing up, she brushed the grass off her pants and got herself straightened up, "I'll go talk to Jeanie and figure this thing out. When I get back, you two will stop acting like idiots and start acting like the charming men I know are hidden inside you somewhere and then we will go to sleep. Together. All right?"

Claude reached out a hand to wrap it gently around her ankle and the look in his eyes was pure relief. Berger put his hand over Claude's and smiled in gratitude, "Thanks, Sheila..."

Crouching down, Sheila ran a gentle caress down each man's face, then brushed kisses against their foreheads, "All right, then. You boys sit tight and I'll be back." She started to walk away, then abruptly turned back and shook a finger, "And no hanky-panky while I'm gone!" Crossing her arms over her chest at the twinned pair of hurt, innocent looks she received in response, she grumped, "Well, I miss out on enough fun already because of classes and protest marches... and just because of this little scare I don't want you treating me like I have cooties."

Berger and Claude stared at her for a moment, then turned back to look at each other. The tableau held for a good twenty seconds before they broke up into laughter. Sheila just shook her head and, muttering under her breath, walked away. Berger tucked Claude up against him and firmly told his hands to behave and stay where he'd put them against the older boy's back. After about a minute, he started to sweat from the effort of maintaining control. Daring to meet Claude's eyes was an obvious mistake... as the older boy was apparently having just as much trouble as he was. It was like being told you couldn't have sweets until after dinner -- once someone told you that, sweets were all you wanted and you wanted them _now_. Claude broke first with a tentative caress and a hopeful smile, "She didn't say anything about foreplay... did she?"

With a roaring laugh, Berger shook his head... and pounced.

* * *

Sheila sighed as she looked over her shoulder to see her two men already rolling around in the grass together. Really... it was just silly sometimes. Teenaged boys had no restraint and maybe it was just her subjective judgment, but it seemed like her two were worse than most. Still... a soft smile crossed her face. She wouldn't have them any other way. And it was sweet, really. And at least they both had impressive stamina. As long as she didn't take too long, at least one of them would have something left for her.

Turning back to the rest of the Tribe, she moved between them, careful not to wake anyone -- or disturb anything amongst those who were awake. One or two brushed hopeful hands against her legs as she passed, but she gently shook her head and moved on. She had to find Jeanie and figure out what this was all about. Berger might be right -- it might be drug-induced rambling... but it might not be. If Jeanie was really pregnant, it was going to affect the whole Tribe. Sheila wasn't fooling herself about that. Jeanie didn't have a place to live, her parents having thrown her out a year ago, and she had no income... and no access to a doctor. They were all going to have to pull together to get her through this, if there really was something to get her through. Shaking herself forcefully, Sheila pulled her thoughts together, _Don't borrow trouble until you have to, girl. One step at a time..._

When she reached the pile of limbs that she thought contained Jeanie, she reached down and shook one. When the small brunette raised bleary eyes to regard her, she offered an apologetic smile and pointed at Jeanie. Crissy turned her sleep-filled gaze back and forth between them, then shook her head. Waking up a little, she disentangled herself from Jeanie and Suzanne and motioned for Sheila to follow her. Leading Sheila away a good enough distance that they could talk without disturbing anyone, she lifted an eyebrow.

Sheila blushed. What if Crissy didn't know? The younger girl was so _innocent_... Sheila didn't want to shake her entire world view if she could help it. Finally Crissy sighed, "Sheila, what is it? It's late and if you don't want to talk, I'd rather go back to sleep."

Giving herself a firm mental shake, Sheila just blurted it out, "Is Jeanie pregnant?"

Crissy blinked once or twice, then offered her a slightly sick smile, "We're not sure. She thinks she is. Suzanne thinks she's not." She shrugged.

Sheila sighed as she ran a hand through her hair and lightly tugged at it, "Well... what do _you_ think?"

The dark-haired girl sighed, "I think it's too soon to tell. She's only a few days late. That could just be stress, or not eating enough, or doing too many drugs. _You_ know how it goes." She paused, then continued in a quiet voice, "But, if you want me to guess... yeah. I think she is." Taking a breath, she continued, "And what's more... Woof thinks she is, too."

Startled blink, "She talked to _Woof_ about it?"

With a small huff of a laugh, Crissy shook her head, "That's the funny thing. She didn't. None of us did. But he came over to her earlier tonight and just laid his head against her tummy, all quiet and serious. Then he looked up at her and just smiled. Then she looked down at him and suddenly I just _knew_... I don't know, Sheila. I can't really explain it."

Sheila rubbed her hand against her forehead. None of them was what you would call "normal", not really. It was why they'd found each other to begin with. But even amongst the strangeness that was the Tribe, Woof was stranger than most. He got these feelings, sometimes... these flashes of insight. They couldn't explain them, but every single one of the Tribe trusted them. Berger had joked once, calling him their Shaman, and in a way it was true. Sheila hadn't really been a believer -- until he had led them to Claude. Now, she believed. So she would trust Woof's instincts, even if in her deepest thoughts, she hoped he was wrong... like she always did. He _had_ to be wrong at least once... so that she could believe he could be wrong twice.

Cutting off that line of thinking, she looked up at Crissy, "Well, if she's only a few days late and she really is pregnant, she can't be more than a month along, right? That should help us narrow it down."

Crissy snorted out a laugh, "This _is_ Jeanie we're talking about. That's like saying we narrowed it down from a few thousand to a few hundred. It's still going to be almost impossible to figure it out." At Sheila's pained look, she hastily added, "But you're right. At least it'll help us eliminate a few people, right?"

Sheila nodded, heart beating a little faster. It wasn't that she really cared who the baby's father was. It really didn't matter. The Tribe took care of its own and they'd make sure, one way or another, that Jeanie and the baby got what they needed. No... the only reason it mattered was because of her boys, Claude in particular. He had enough worries, enough stress in his life, without adding a child to the mix. He would need to know. And while Jeanie might not keep careful track of who she slept with when, Claude was a stickler for such things. He would know.

Thanking Crissy, she left the other girl to make her way back to where she'd left Berger and Claude. When she got there, they were so entwined with each other it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. For a moment she let herself just watch them, caught as usual by the grace and beauty that was the embodiment of her two boys in motion. Berger lay on top, one leg insistently pressing between Claude's, mouth pressed to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. That was _his_ spot -- Sheila wasn't even allowed near it. It made her shiver, watching him lave attention on it... claiming and possessive.

Claude had his one free leg wrapped firmly around Berger's, almost up and over his hip, pulling him as close as he could. His hands were threaded into Berger's hair, not pulling, not demanding in any way, but caressing, smoothing out any tangles they came across. His head was thrown back, eyes half-closed in pleasure. Sheila couldn't have taken a step closer to save her life. She didn't normally think of herself as a voyeur, but there was just something so _right_, so complete, about the two of them... It made her wish that she had artistic talent, because really... someone should capture moments like this in oils or in sculpture.

And it would give her something to hold on to... if and when Woof's insight ever came to pass. He'd made the comment almost in passing, really, just a few days after they'd met Claude. Sheila hadn't been sure what to make of it at first, but the more she dwelled on it, the more she feared that she understood. What Woof had said was, "He's Aquarius... destined for greatness or madness... and he'll bring us both before he's through." Then he had looked up at Sheila and smiled, "But don't worry... it won't be for you." Then he'd scampered off to go hound Dionne about something or other. She'd dismissed it then, but every time she found her boys like this -- without her -- in her gut, she knew what Woof meant. But she wasn't giving up either of them without a fight.

As though her resolution had been a silent signal, Claude's eyes opened fully and spotted her standing there. A moment later, Berger lifted his head from Claude's neck, green eyes wide and dilated with lust. Both faces bloomed into wicked smiles as they each reached out a hand to her. No... she wasn't going to give up. Not now. Not ever. They were hers and she was theirs and that was how it was going to stay... for as long as she could make it so. Joining her hands with theirs, she let herself be pulled down between them as they made room for her. Jeanie's problems could wait. Woof's cryptic predictions could wait. It could _all_ wait. This time... now... was for them.

* * *

Claude woke early the next morning, too full of restless thoughts to sleep easy. He untangled himself from Berger and Sheila, gently smiling when they moved in to fill the gap he left when he got up, wrapping their arms tightly around each other to conserve warmth. They were beautiful, Berger and Sheila. It humbled him that they so willingly let him be part of that beauty and hoped he would have the courage to finally let them both go when it was time. And it might be time now.

If Jeanie really was pregnant and the baby really was his, it was his solemn responsibility as a man to take care of the child he sired... and the woman he sired her on. He inched away from Berger and Sheila so as not to disturb them and pulled his knees to his chest, shivering in the pre-dawn chill. It wasn't that he didn't like Jeanie. He did. He liked her a lot. It was just... they didn't fit. Not really. He needed someone to ground him, to keep him landed in reality. Jeanie and he together... they'd float away and never come back, like balloons whose strings were carelessly dropped by a three year old at a birthday party. It would never work. He sighed. But if there was a child involved, he'd have to _make_ it work. Damn it. Why couldn't they and Sheila have talked before getting so distracted last night? He should have known better. Tugging lightly at his hair, he cursed under his breath. There was no help for it. He'd have to wait until they woke up.

Two hours later, just as the sun had lifted its sleepy head from beneath the cover of the horizon, Berger and Sheila started to stir. By then, Claude was so stiff from the cold and from holding the same position for that long, he could hardly move. Stretching gingerly, he made his way back to the two of them. Sheila sat up first, stretching her arms over her head and inadvertently lifting her shirt in the process, revealing a smooth expanse of stomach. Berger, horny as usual at this time of the morning, immediately rolled over and started planting nipping kisses along that exposed skin. Sheila giggled and dropped her arms, trying to curl over to protect her abdomen from his tickling.

So beautiful... They were so beautiful in their carefree innocence. Claude reached out a hand but didn't touch. There was something so wild, so pure about those two laid out in the grass on a spring morning. He couldn't intrude, he didn't quite dare. Fortunately, Berger had enough daring for all of them. Reaching a hand out blindly behind him, he grabbed onto Claude's outstretched arm and pulled him down next to him. After a few more minutes of teasing, giggling touches, they lay quiescent, facing each other, both pillowing their heads on Sheila's thighs as she carded her hands through their hair.

This was all he could ever want, this sense of peace and togetherness, having Berger beside him and Sheila watching over them both. It made his heart swell, the breath in his throat catch, at the sheer joy he felt when with the two of them like this. Life might not be perfect, but moments like these were precious and well appreciated.

Eventually, Sheila stopped her gentle stroking and lay a hand on each of their shoulders. They turned to look up at her, finally feeling ready to face whatever news she would give them. She took a deep breath, "Well, the word is that this might be the real thing. No one's really sure, yet, and it's probably too soon to tell. At most, she's a month along, if she really is pregnant."

At those words, Claude felt a rush of relief so intense that he was almost lightheaded with it. If he hadn't already been lying down, he'd have fallen. A month... only a month. If it was only a month, there was no way that the child could be his. He and Jeanie hadn't been intimate for at least the last month and a half, a little longer, actually. The child wasn't his.

He was unaware of how strong his reaction was until he felt both Berger and Sheila bending over him and pressing kisses to whatever spot they could reach, gently urging him not to cry. Lifting shaking hands to return those soft caresses, he smiled through the tears, "I'm OK, I'm OK." Taking in a shuddering breath, he laughed, "I'm just relieved."

As he sat up, safe in the encircling arms of his friends, Claude couldn't help a momentary pang of guilt at his reaction. He was glad to be off the hook -- more than glad -- but what would that mean for Jeanie? At least... at least if it had been him, he'd have taken care of her. It might have killed something in him to do it, but he would have. Now... would the actual father feel that same sense of responsibility? Would he help her? Would he support the child? Would he be there for them? His stomach started to clench all over again as his thoughts tied him in tight little knots.

Strong fingers gently tried to smooth the lines from his brow as soft, gentle arms wrapped around him from behind. Berger took his face in his hands and clucked his tongue at him, "Claudio, Claudio... what are we gonna do with you? You're a regular roller coaster ride these days." Planting a chaste kiss on Claude's lips, Berger smiled, "We take care of our own, Claudio. Whether the baby's yours or not, it's still Jeanie's. They'll be taken care of, they'll be safe and they'll be provided for. Somehow, we'll manage it. It'll be OK."

A shadow fell over their little group and Claude paled when he identified Jeanie standing over them. She smiled her gentle smile and rested a hand against her still-flat belly, laughing a soft laugh at the three of them, "Claude... I'm sorry about before. I was tripping... and I said some things I shouldn't have." Ducking her head shyly, her next words were quiet, almost whispered, "It's not yours. It's not any of yours. I know whose it is... and he won't be in the picture." Eyes firming with resolve, her hand tightened against her abdomen, "Not if _I_ have anything to say about it, anyway."

Claude rose to his feet, one hand still twined with Berger's, and lifted the other to smooth Jeanie's hair from her face, "I would have taken care of you. You know that, right?"

Jeanie's smile wobbled at the edges, but it held, "I know, Claudio. That's why I wish it had been yours. You're a good man. Too good for me." Sniffing loudly, she backed up a pace and shook her head, "But I'll be OK. Really, I will. Somehow... we'll both be OK."

Crissy stepped up and placed a gentle hand on Jeanie's shoulder, "We'll all help you, Jeanie. You know we will. And I'm sure my mom won't mind you crashing with us from time to time."

Suzanne also rested her hand on Jeanie's back, "You can stay with me, sometimes, too."

Dionne stepped forward and pulled the taller girl into a gentle embrace, "I think it's safe to say that you won't have to sleep outside at all for the next 9 months unless you want to, girl. We'll take care of you."

Seeing that outpouring of support, Jeanie's eyes filled with tears and her smile firmed and widened, "I don't deserve any of you. Really, I don't. I can't thank you enough..."

Claude smiled and gently kissed her cheek, "Hey... what are families for, right?"

That did it. With that one affirmation, the rest of the Tribe crowded in, all eager and intent on touching Jeanie, hugging Jeanie, congratulating her... anything to get closer and be part of what was happening. Claude let himself be pushed out of the middle of the circle of well-wishers and wrapped his arms around himself, relief and happiness making his blood sing.

Berger crowded close to him and wrapped his arms around him, resting his head on the other boy's shoulder. Sheila approached from the other side and did the same. Claude unwrapped his arms from around himself so he could put one around each of them. They then completed the circle by wrapping an arm around each other. It wasn't perfection, far from it, but he was content here. He was himself with these people in a way that he couldn't be with anyone else. Maybe it wouldn't last -- nothing good ever did -- but he was going to hold onto it for as long as he could. This was _his_ Tribe. And if he was Aquarius, destined for greatness or madness... he couldn't think of any other people he'd rather have along for the ride.

* * *

**A/N:**

And... I'm just not up for chibi-silliness today. O_o Weather's bad, back hurts, cat being a pain in the rear, kinda grumpy. :-P *sigh*

Questions, comments, clementines?

Ooo... Clementines... *wanders into the kitchen*


End file.
